Kismet
by IndependenceIndividuality
Summary: "When the universe wants you to meet, you meet." Jacob, meet Renesmee. Renesmee, meet Jacob. Again, and again, and again.
1. The Beginning

**_A/N:_** This is the first installment of yet another fic I've been toying with for a while. I wanted something that didn't exactly follow a storyline, so I could write when inspired and not really be leaving anyone hanging plot-wise.

In any J/N I write, canon, AH, AU, whatever, the one thing I always keep in mind is that they are truly soul mates. That's the point of Jake and Nessie. So whatever their personalities or interests, they are still perfectly suited for each other.

This is a series of stand-alones about finding your soul mate. This short, first piece is canon - the rest will not be. Most will probably be AH, unless I specify otherwise. I'll do my best to update tomorrow. Please let me know what you thin

_**Disclaimer:**_ _Kismet_ is a word of Turkish origin, meaning fate. I do not own it. I didn't even come up with it - that was the work of the lovely **BlackImprint. **She also helped me through the summary fiasco, so I hope you like that as well. I'd love to hear what you think. As always, I own nothing but the words. 

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><p>Kismet<p>

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><p>|...+...|<p>

Cold. Hard. Bright.

Not soft like Momma. Not warm like before.

Quiet voice. But not Momma. Not Daddy. Not good voice. Where was good voice?

Quiet voice sings nice. But good voice is better. Quiet voice too pretty. Bright, bright. Want Momma.

"Sh, sh, sh." Quiet voice. "I've got you."

Everything moves. No see quiet voice. Quiet voice moves, everything moves.

Feel. Pull. Like leaving Momma. But not scary. Not bad.

New one. Not bright. Pull more.

See eyes. Pull hard.

Good voice?

"H-hey there."

Good voice. Love good voice.


	2. Cake and Hairspray

_**A/N:**_ Happy Valentine's day! I love y'all all so much, and hope you enjoy this humble gift from me to my loyal readers. Find someone you love and tell them you love them. And don't stay at home - if you need something from the store, go get it - who knows what might happen? Here's to Jake and Nessie.

_**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing.

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><p>Cake and Hairspray<p>

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><p>|...+...|<p>

"Ve are about to _close_!"

Jacob nodded, even though the cashier probably couldn't see it from the back of the store, and continued searching the aisles for what he had been sent after. Quil and Embry would be super pissed if he came back without it - said they wouldn't let him back in the house. And it being Christmas eve and all, this was the only store in a ten-mile radius that was open, and about to close at that.

"Did you _hear _me?" The guy behind the register called out again, at the same time the door chimed. "I said ve are about to close!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," a girl's voice said from the front of the store. Normally, Jacob would check it out, but he was on a mission. "I'll be so quick, I promise - I just need to grab one thing."

Jacob turned the next and last aisle, desperation beginning to fill his stomach. Damn it, why didn't he make Seth go? If he missed Sue's red velvet cake because of this shit, he was going to have to crack some skulls.

He felt hopeful when he spotted packs of bobby pins and rubber bands. That meant it had to be close, right? Jacob came to a stop and surveyed the surrounding shelves. Shampoo, conditioner, lotion - no, no, no. Where was it?

There. Yes.

"Oh thank God!" A voice exclaimed softly from behind him, and at the same time his hand closed around the can of hairspray, so did a much smaller, much whiter hand. With pink nails.

Jacob's eyes followed up the hand's arm to its owners face. Damn. A beautiful redhead with full pink lips and wide brown eyes.

"Oh, okay, hi," she said nervously, flashing a smile that showed off perfect white teeth. "I'm sorry, but I really, really need this."

It took him a second, but that shook Jacob back into reality. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't give it to her.

Jacob shook his head. "I'm sorry, I do too."

The girl narrowed her eyes just slightly, like she was thinking, and licked her pretty pink lips. She sighed with an air of finality, then offered, "I'll give you thirty dollars for it."

Any other time, Jacob would have been all over that offer, especially considering it was a way to get in a pretty (read: gorgeous) girl's good graces. But, the cake. And it was cold. And he really, really believed Quil and Embry would lock him out of the house.

"No can do," Jacob turned her down. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she didn't let him get around to it.

"Oh come on, I have to be at a gala in Port Angeles in less than two hours and I haven't even started getting ready!" She burst out, shifting her weight and almost stamping her foot. The movement made Jacob look down at the rest of her; she was wearing tights, a big Forks High sweatshirt, and snow boots. "My dad's gonna kill me if I'm late and don't look appropriate, and I _need_ this hairspray - look at my hair! Does it look like I can do anything to it without industrial-strength hairspray?"

Since she was screaming at him to, Jacob looked at her hair. To be honest, he'd already looked. It seemed just fine to him. A pretty copper color and really curly without being frizzy. Really long. Whatever she was trying to hold it back with now wasn't doing a very good job. He'd never been to a gala, but hair like that kind of stood for itself - it didn't really need anything else.

Jacob opened his mouth to say something once again, when he realized he had in fact been staring at her hair for a few seconds, when she beat him to it. Again.

Not letting go of the can, she put her free hand on her hip and gave him the scary girl look. Apparently all women could do that. His sisters and Sue in particular were experts.

"What do _you_ need hairspray for anyway?" She asked bluntly, pursing her pink lips just a little. Jacob forced himself not to look. "You've got a good bit but I doubt you're about to attempt an updo."

That was the question Jacob had been hoping to avoid. He looked down at his boots and then back up at the space behind the girl's shoulder while he mumbled his answer. And he got the reaction he expected.

"You _what_?"

"We need it to try to blow something up," he said again, slower than before but still quick. She stared at him dumbly for a second so Jacob ducked his head. "Listen, my idiot friends have some brilliant scheme that I was sent out in search of hairspray to help fulfill - and if I come back without it, they won't let me in the house and I won't get any red velvet cake, and what's the point of Christmas eve if you don't have any damn red velvet cake?"

Jacob really hadn't meant to say all of that. Couldn't he just say his sister/girlfriend/mother/aunt had some event that required hairspray too? Or something else besides rambling his life story at her and talking about cake? But hey, maybe she hadn't meant to tell him she had a psycho dad that made her drive to Port Angeles in the snow on Christmas eve in a ballgown.

Hairspray really brought out the worst in people. Maybe that was why girls were so bitchy.

"I - I don't even," she announced simply, before her other small hand came around to hold the other end of the bottle, so she had both hands on it now. "No, seriously, you have to let me have it. You need it to blow something up? That's not a real reason!"

"Hey back there!" The cashier shouted from the front. "_Tree_ more minutes - I have a family to get to, you know!"

This caused the girl to jump with fright and tug on the can with both hands. "Oh come on!"

"Sorry," he said again, tugging back, but up, so she had to raise her arms. As he straightened up to his full height, he realized just how short she was. "We're both stuck in the same boat. And _I _was here first."

For some reason, this seemed to annoy her more than anything else. Her literally watched the anger flare in her eyes.

"You may have been in the store first, but you did _not_ grab it before me," she said clearly, her voice low but serious. "We grabbed it at the exact same time, which is why we are having this argument."

Knowing she was right and not wanting to backtrack, Jacob changed tactics.

"Look, I'm just trying to be nice to you because it's Christmas eve," he informed her, making her mouth drop open, just a little. "I can very easily snatch this can from you if I wanted to - "

"And I would climb your giant ass like a tree to get it back!"

Jacob wanted to laugh, really bad, but he knew that wasn't a smart move. They had to settle this soon or the store owner was going to kick them both out without what they needed. He tried to imagine her scaling him like a mountain to grab the hairspray from above his head and it made him want to laugh again - it also made him kind of want to see if she'd do it, and that had nothing to do with humor at all.

His mom would kill him if she were alive to see or hear about what he was about to do, but there was no way around it. He'd been gone half an hour already.

Jacob snatched the can upward, surprised by the fact that the force of his pull hadn't knocked her hands away. Now she stood on her tiptoes on the home accessory aisle of the only Forks convenient store open on Christmas eve, with her arms above her head, clinging with both hands to a hairspray can for dear life. Jacob couldn't pull up anymore without taking her whole body weight with him, and even he wasn't that good.

Damn it, he didn't want to wrestle this girl down over a can of hairspray. But then -

"Okay, okay, listen," she pleaded, in clear desperation. She was still on her tiptoes, still holding on to the can, and somehow in the midst of it all, still cute as hell. "Somewhere in the middle of all that rambling you were doing earlier, I heard red velvet cake."

Jacob tugged the can a little, just to see her bounce, and forced himself not to smile. He was intrigued.

"Go on."

"I make a mean red velvet cake. Completely from scratch, cream cheese frosting, the whole nine yards. If you let me have this hairspray," she offered, widening her eyes and Jacob was horrified to see the beginning of tears glistening there. Real ones too. Jacob's sisters had made him an expert on fake tears and he knew them when he saw them. "Because I really, really do need it . . . I will make you _three_ red velvet cakes, whenever you want. I swear."

Those big brown eyes blinked rapidly and the shininess went away, and that's what made Jacob 100% sure they'd been real. Why not turn on the waterworks unless she really hadn't wanted him to see them?

And three red velvet cakes made from scratch? That was . . . that was a damn good offer, especially considering what they were arguing over was a can of hairspray Quil or Embry was undoubtedly going to use to set something on fire. Also, it would be an excuse to see her again. Because he kinda really did want to see this girl again.

"Three red velvet cakes?" He asked as though he were considering bartering, even though the decision had already been made. "Whenever I want?"

"I'll give you my phone number, Facebook account, and address," she swore, and he chose to believe her. "My grandfather is Carlisle Cullen, the chief of medicine at Forks Hospital - I won't be able to hide from you even if I wanted to."

Hot damn, she was a Cullen. That explained the fancy galas on Christmas eve when all normal people were with their families, and the rest of the douchery. Even if he hadn't decided to already, he'd have had to give her the can then. Getting into a fight with a Cullen girl was the last thing he needed to do. End up in jail on Christmas eve.

Even as he thought it though, he knew it wasn't true. If she had wanted to play the name card, she'd have played it from the beginning.

Jacob let go of the can and her arms fell like a rock being dropped into a bucket. She clutched the can to her chest and absolutely beamed at him. Like a sap, Jacob knew immediately he'd done the right thing.

"Oh my God!" She exclaimed, actually doing a little jump. "Thank you so much! I can't believe it, thank you, thank you! Give me your phone and I'll put my number in it so you can text me about your cakes!"

Jacob let himself smile then - a pretty girl and the promise of cake, what wasn't there to smile about? - as he fished his phone out of his pocket. He handed it to her and before he could ask her if she knew how to use it (it was really old), she'd already began punching her number in.

"I sent a text to my phone, so I have your number too," she said happily a second later, still smiling brightly.

Then, without warning, she jumped straight up to his height and wrapped her arms around his neck. Jacob barely had time to grab her waist for support before she had pressed her lips against his cheek in a warm kiss and hugged him hard around his neck. The next second, she was back on her feet.

"Thank you so much, really, I mean it!" She called out, almost skipping backwards towards the register. "Text me anytime!"

Jacob watched her smile brilliantly at the cashier who looked like he immediately forgot that he'd been about to kick them both out of his store. She handed him what looked like a twenty and apologized. Then she headed for the door.

Jacob couldn't believe the twist he felt in his stomach.

"My name's Jacob, by the way!" He called out to her as she flew towards the door. She stopped with it half open and turned back to look at him, the bell already chiming, her curls all around her face and her cheeks flushed. Jacob felt like his were too.

"I'm Renesmee Cullen!" She called back, bouncing on her toes, smiling like . . . well, like it was Christmas. "Have a merry Christmas, Jacob! It was nice to meet you!"

And with a wave of the hairspray can still clutched in her hand, Renesmee Cullen was gone.


	3. Snakes and Green Stuff

**_A/N: _**Another update! What? Is it true what they say, that the world's ending in 2012? No, I don't think so, just procrastination (from homework) at work. The idea from this chapter came from an experience I had recently, only in that a snake got into my house. I thought that would be a great plot device to bring Nessie and Jake together. I hope you like it.  
>I'm doing something I've never done before with this story, and taking requests! I can't promise anything, but if you have any cool scenarios you'd like to seehave Jacob and Nessie meet under, by all means, let me know! I have a roll of ideas, but I'm open to more.

Also, I've started a fic tumblr. You can find it here: **_independenceindividuality(dot)tumblr(dot)com _**

You can follow me, or just stop by and ask me stuff! I want to do character questions, so **if you want to ask any of my Jakes or Nessies anything**, just ask! Specify who you want to answer (which character, story, etc), and they'll answer you directly. It's also anonymous, if you're shy, so don't worry.

**_Disclaimer:_** I own nothing. I just hope you enjoy it.

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><p>Snakes and Green Stuff<p>

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><p>|...+...|<p>

Soaking wet, wearing only a throw blanket and an avocado mask, clutching a broom in her hand wasn't exactly how Renesmee would've chosen to receive the handyman. But well, you took what life gave you. Her knees were still shaking when he knocked at the door.

In light of her current situation - despite being less than underdressed - Renesmee swung the door open with relief.

"Thank God you're finally here!"

She had to admit, the seven-foot tall Native man holding a canvas bag and a huge stick brought her up a little short. After she got over the shock of his size, she was able redirect her attention to his chiseled features, and she suddenly felt very self-conscious of her situation. Staring (up) into his handsome face, for a moment Renesmee almost forgot all about the deadly threat that lied coiled in wait on her bathroom floor.

Almost. The reminder was enough to drop the bucket of lead back into her stomach.

She watched the handyman raise one dark eyebrow and this reminded Renesmee of another thing: that all she was wearing was the small throw blanket off the back of her couch. Also, that her face was green.

"They said you have a snake in here?"

For some reason, to Renesmee, this sounded like an accusation; and after what she'd been through this morning , she wasn't having it, not even from an amazingly handsome handyman.

"I do not _have a snake in here_," she threw out at him incredulously. "A snake _got_ in here, got in my shower - got in my shower while I was _in _my shower and - "

"Okay, okay," he said defensively, raising his hands, snake-catching tools still in them. "That's what I meant. Front office said a snake got into one of the apartments."

"My apartment!" Renesmee wasn't sure why she said this, and as loudly as she did at that. She could only chalk it up to terrible, terrible anxiety. "In my shower!"

The handsome handyman laughed then, a slow chuckle that came from low in his chest, and Renesmee would have tore him a new one if she hadn't needed his help so badly. And if it hadn't been such a deep, delicious sound. And if she hadn't realized that well, the situation - from his standpoint at least - was a little ridiculous.

"So you said." He was still smiling. His teeth were very white. "This is a one-bedroom, right?"

"No, this is how I receive all my guests," Renesmee replied, gesturing to her blanket-and-fruit ensemble. "Yes, this is a one bedroom, and that _snake_ is in that bedroom which is why I'm like this!"

Somehow she felt being catty was her only defense. That, and the idea of a huge snake slithering around her bedroom while they spoke was enough to make her feel a little crazed.

"Well, I'm honored you'd go through all the trouble of dressing up just for me," he returned brightly, completely unfazed by her insanity. Then he smiled and jabbed his head towards the bedroom. "Mind if I lead the way?"

Renesmee gestured to the room as well, with an expression that said plainly, "I'm sure as hell not going to." She felt much safer creeping down the hall in the massive shadow of the handyman.

Even while checking her surroundings diligently for signs of an escape attempt, she still managed to notice how long the handyman's hair was. It was long and thick and very black, hanging down past his shoulders, secured by a rubber band. His shoulders were very broad too, and the flannel shirt he was wearing made her think fleetingly of her home in Washington. He didn't seem very fazed as he walked down the hallway. If anyone could catch the snake, Renesmee figured it would be this man.

She was shaken out of her paranoid surveillance when he asked her, "What kind of snake was it?"

"I don't know," she shot back. "It was big and it was huge and . . . and evil."

The handyman stopped in his tracks and turned back to look at her with narrowed eyes. They were amused though, not suspicious. He licked his lips.

"Evil, huh?"

Renesmee scoffed, as though she found his remark as ridiculous as he found hers. "Yeah, evil. And big."

"You already said that," he informed her.

"Yeah, well, it was big!"

Renesmee would've crossed her arms, but well, the broom. She would've thrown it down for dramatic effect and crossed them anyway, but she was afraid the noise might attract the snake.

What attracted snakes anyway? Naked girls, apparently, since this one crept up on her in the shower. Well, if that snake came slithering back through here, it was going to get a naked girl, because she was going to jump a foot in the air and take off running and she couldn't be sure she'd remember to take her blanket with her.

"Well, how big was it?" He asked her, and before she could reply with 'big' once again, he held a large, russet colored hand out to her. "Was it as big around as my finger?"

Renesmee studied the finger he held out. It was kind of hard to remember. She found herself marveling at how much bigger his fingers were than hers, but when she realized the snake was about that size, that only filled her with panic.

"About as big around as your thumb," she managed to get out, then buried her face in her hands as she thought about it. Relived it. She shuddered. "Oh God, what if it had got me?"

"Relax," Renesmee heard the handyman say from behind her hands, and surprisingly, she did relax. His voice was nice. "We have a good few poisonous snakes in Arizona, but most of them are rattlers. Did you hear the snake make a rattling noise?"

Renesmee thought about it. Finally, she breathed out a hopeful, "No."

"Then chances are, it's harmless," he assured her, waving off her concern like she was worried about a spider or a roach. "Were the pupils vertical?"

Renesmee's eyes widened at the question.

"I'm sorry," she said, feigning calmness. "When we were playing peek-a-boo in the shower, I didn't get a chance to _check his pupils_."

The handyman looked like he was trying to restrain a smile, but besides that, he didn't seem bothered. "Well, what color was it?"

"It had a pattern," Renesmee remembered immediately. The handyman studied her face intently while she spoke, his eyes wandering all over it. It made her feel nervous, and not about the snake. "It was brown? And yellow . . . except more of a tan than a brown, and more cream than yellow."

"And you said it came in through the shower?" His brow was knitted with concern. His eyes moved from her face, down her person, but surreptitiously, like he was studying a painting placed before him.

Renesmee adjusted her blanket with one hand and clutched her broom with the other. "I don't know where it came in from, but I know it was in the shower when I was in there, and it was in there when I left there."

Left wasn't really a fair word for what Renesmee did. Fled, escaped, scrambled while screaming and crying, those would all be more accurate terms to describe what it was Renesmee did.

"All right," he said. Then he scratched his jaw and smiled at her, a big, slow smile. "Okay, I gotta ask. What's on your face?"

For some reason, Renesmee felt like he'd just popped the air out of her balloon. Somewhere in the last few minutes, she'd forgotten completely that she had slimy avocado smeared all over her.

"It's an avocado mask to make me beautiful, nosy," she shot defensively, hoping he didn't come back at her with a line about how it wasn't working. "Don't you have any women in your family?"

He was still smiling, but for a second, Renesmee thought she saw the smile falter a little.

"Yeah, I do," he finally answered. "But the green stuff is new for me. Maybe I'll tell my sisters about it."

"Oh, I will give you money if you promise to never tell anyone about any part of this," Renesmee offered him, not joking in the least bit. There was no way she could come off charming in that story.

She was surprised to see the handyman wink at her. Even more surprised by how much she liked it. "We'll talk about that after I get your snake."

The snake! That's right. While she was making goo-goo eyes at the handyman and he was asking her inane questions about her face mask, the sneaky thing could have slithered right up on them! Renesmee checked all around her frantically, only relaxing once she'd cleared the area.

Thankfully, her annoying savior in flannel didn't see this, because he was already making his way down the short hall. Renesmee slinked behind him, very snake-like herself in her behavior, keeping her eye out for any sign of movement.

She did manage to feel a little pang of embarrassment when they stepped into her bedroom. It was less than tidy. She'd been trying to decide what to wear for a lunch with some people from work; she obviously wasn't going to make it now. The handyman tossed the long stick in his hand and caught it, so it was pointed outwards. He seemed to become a little more cautious as they entered the room.

Renesmee watched him check behind the door and around her dresser. A pile of clothes stood in the way of his path to her bathroom. She watched as the handyman nudged it with his boot. Renesmee clutched her blanket and her broom, and waited. When nothing happened, he began lifting the items one by one with the stick. When he was done, he tossed them gently a few feet away, closer to her bed.

When he lifted he last item, a towel, and tossed it toward the new pile, it went. The purple bra that had somehow gotten tangled up in it did not, however, and was left dangling from the end of his stick. Renesmee's heart stopped for just a second, although she wasn't sure why she should be embarrassed. She'd be happy if she at least that bra on right now.

He tossed it onto the pile too, but not before flicking his eyes over to meet hers. His dark skin got a little darker, and Renesmee might have been kidding herself, but she thought he just might be blushing.

"Sorry," he quietly, his voice a little rough. His eyes left hers and he turned his back on her. "Sometimes they'll hide under clothes and it's better safe than sorry."

Once again, Renesmee was reminded of the snake lurking somewhere in her room, and she shuddered.

"It probably didn't leave the bathroom though," he said, then he turned back to her and smiled again. He was always looking at her like he was about to tease her. Which he probably was. "So you can come in now."

Well, that probably did look like that was what Renesmee had been waiting for. She was hanging halfway through her doorway, wanting to enter, but being held back by her fear. She would settle for just getting the snake gone - but there was a part of her that wanted to face it again, or at least see it get caught. Call it a sick fascination.

Renesmee took one tentative step into her bedroom, shivering as her feet sunk into the plush carpet. Truth be told, it had been a major factor in her choosing this apartment, but now it seemed like the perfect environment for a slimy snake to just sneak right up on her and slither up her feet.

Oh great, now she was freaking herself out.

"Don't worry," the deep voice said again, and Renesmee looked up from her feet to see the handyman holding a beckoning hand out to her. "I won't let it get you."

It was half-teasing, but half not, so Renesmee found the courage for a few more steps forward.

"That broom is actually a good idea," he told her. "I'm gonna try to find it in the bathroom - it's probably still where you left it. It _shouldn't_ - but if it does come this way at you, just sweep it back at me."

The handyman must have seen the abject horror clear on her face. He had the audacity to smile.

"Well, it's either that or let it run right into you."

That was enough to make Renesmee turn on her heel and head back for the living room. She wasn't that curious. But before she got one step, two hot hands closed around her still-wet arms. The skin was rough, but the touch was gentle, and they turned her back around.

"Come on now, I was just messing with you," he said placatingly, but Renesmee was not placated. "You can spot me, can't you? It'll make my job a lot harder if it gets out into another room."

She imagined it escaping into her bedroom and having to search for it there, under beds and behind other pieces of furniture. In the corners of her closet, wrapped up in her clothes. Then she imagined not being able to find it at all. The handyman giving up and going home, leaving her here alone, with a deadly beast hiding somewhere in her house. She'd have to move.

Leave her stuff too, because no way in hell she could pack it.

Renesmee shook herself back into the present this time. "I'll do it."

The handyman removed his hands from her arms and Renesmee felt a little chill all of a sudden. But she was in a blanket after all. She hitched her blanket up more securely, and held her broom like a weapon as the handyman entered the war zone.

Like before, she watched him check behind the door - or the little, fake half-door the bathrooms in these apartments had, then run the stick in his hand under the edge of her counter. Renesmee stood at the ready, her insides as constricted as springs, ready to jump into action at any moment. She watched him poke the shower curtain, then when nothing sprang out, pull it out of the way and duck behind it.

From behind the curtain, the handyman made an "ah" sound. Renesmee shuffled her broom for practice, ready to sweep the monster away when it came at her. There was a thud behind the curtain then a short scuffle. The handyman's deep voice said "shit," then "goddamn it." There was a shuffle, and then nothing.

Renesmee grasped the handle of her broom and watched he handyman's feet, the only part of his long legs that she could see. She watched the stick get set to the ground, and watched as the outline of him stood up to its full, impressive height.

"There, done," he said, stepping out from behind the curtain. "That wasn't that bad, was it?"

Renesmee didn't absorb a thing he said, because when he emerged he still had the snake in his hands. Thick and long and dangerous looking; even in his large hands, the thing still looked big. He took a step towards her as if to show her, and Renesmee swung the damn broom at him.

"Don't!" She said warningly, pointing the broom at him. Although she was holding it so low, all she'd probably do was trip him up and send the thing flying at her. Oh Jesus. "Don't bring that thing at me!"

"It's just a Glossy snake," he told her, chuckling, like he was telling her it was a rabbit. The damn thing was curled around his hands like some kind of toy. "Not poisonous - I told you, didn't I? Come see it."

Renesmee took a step back. "I can see it just fine from here."

The handyman looked back at her, his expression very frank. Renesmee noticed then how nice his eyes were - they were so dark, they were almost black. For the first time, he didn't look like he was messing with her.

"It can't hurt you," he said earnestly, holding his hands out just the smallest bit. "It can't even move. I'm holding it tight. Come see it."

Slowly - very slowly - Renesmee inched her way forward. She crossed her arms over her chest and held her hands in tight fists by her neck. Then, when she was a two feet away, more than close enough, she leaned forward just a little. The handyman was so tall that the snake was almost on her eye level.

One of the handyman's dark, strong hands held the snake's head tightly between three fingers, and the other held the body, which had wrapped itself around his arm. Renesmee could care less whether the thing was venomous or not; it was still horrible and scary and disgusting. It was a little relieving though to see it up close, the thing that had terrified her so, made completely docile.

"See its head?" The handyman pointed out to her, his voice a little rough. "How it's smooth, kinda just flows out from the body? Most times, that means it's not venomous. Venomous snakes' heads are usually shaped more like a triangle."

Renesmee studied what she showed her for a second, looking into the thing's black eyes. It had no pupils, vertical or otherwise; its eyes were pure black. She shivered again, then stood back up to her full height, arms still crossed over her chest.

"See?" He said simply.

When Renesmee sighed in relief and nodded, the handyman hissed, and twitched the thing at her, just a little. She gasped and jumped back, but realized her fear wasn't as great as it had been before. Instead of being pissed off, she was grateful he hadn't done that when she'd been leant over it. She would have beat him with her broom then, snake be damned.

"I'm gonna go turn this thing out somewhere," he said, stopping Renesmee's oncoming tirade with a look before she'd even started. "Far away. I'll put it out in that grass on the other side of the highway, so it can't find its way back."

Renesmee breathed out again and nodded. He headed toward the door with it, then stopped. He turned back to her.

"He's gonna miss you though," he said, back to teasing. This time when he smiled, Renesmee found it in her to smile back. "He says he thought you guys were friends."

"What are you, the snake whisperer?" She asked him, tossing her broom to the floor and feeling relieved to be rid of it. Like ridding herself of the snake itself. "Get that thing the hell out of here."

Renesmee was surprised to feel a pulling in her stomach when the handyman turned to go, and it wasn't for the damn snake, she could tell you that. But before she could analyze the emotion, he called out over his shoulder, "I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

"Back?" She questioned, feeling a weird jump in her stomach. Why would he be coming back?

"Yeah, this little guy got in through a crack in the tile," he said, gesturing the snake over his shoulder as he walked towards the door. "I've gotta fill it in so he can't come back, even though he says you're breaking his heart."

Renesmee tried to think of something incredibly witty to say back, but the handyman was already out the door, ducking his head to accommodate his enormous height. She half-ran down the hall to shut the door behind him. Then, for some reason, she just stood there with her back against it.

Free. No more snakes in her apartment.

And the handsome handyman was coming back! If only to fill the cracks in her tile. Well, he was probably entirely too rugged and good-looking to be interested in her, especially after the lovely, psychotic show she'd put on for him this morning, but there was no reason she couldn't try to undo a little of the damage. At least show him she could look like a normal person.

And hey, worse come to worst, she could always break a few things around the apartment so the people at the main office had an excuse to send him back. She wouldn't mind watching him move around her apartment, doing manly things, all tall and handsome and imposing. Especially if those things weren't catching a snake, and Renesmee had clothes on at the time.

Or at least, wasn't covered in avocado.

When Renesmee opened the door the second time, she wasn't wrapped in a wet blanket with green stuff smeared on her face. She wearing her cutest house clothes, a pair of black tights and a loose-fitted white tank with pastel colored peacocks and flower designs stenciled across the front and down the side. Her hair wasn't soaking wet and tangled - it was brushed and toweled into damp ringlets. She even had time to put on a dab of perfume. You know, to cover the avocado smell.

The handsome handyman was, of course, wearing the exact same thing as before. The only difference was what was in his hands - instead of a stick and a bag (which were still in her bathroom), he had a tube of stuff and small, scraper-looking device.

When she opened the door, his eyes roved over her as they did the first time earlier that day. But this time, instead of raising an eyebrow at her, he blew a breath out through his teeth.

"Damn."

Renesmee felt something in her stomach, but she wasn't sure if she should trust it. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The handyman stepped into the apartment, ducking his head again to get through. He started for the bedroom without her leave. Renesmee followed, ready to jab him in the back if he didn't answer her. She shouldn't have left her broom in her room.

Right as they stepped over the threshold to her room, his deep voice said, without looking back at her, "That green stuff must be doing it's job."

Renesmee took a second to remember what he was talking about. When she remembered what she'd told him, she flushed with pleasure. That the avocado was to make her beautiful.

"Why, thank you," she said, a little dryly. Trying to sound as casual as possible. It was harder. She liked him a lot more when there wasn't a snake in her house.

She followed him into her bathroom, figuring it wasn't too small for that, and searched for something to say as he crouched down in the corner with his tools. He was down between the toilet and the shower, so Renesmee hoisted herself up onto the counter, resting her feet on the lid of the toilet. She was glad she'd painted her toes last week.

She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees so she could see what he was doing.

"So you're going to fix it so no more snakes can get in my house?"

The handyman looked back up at her, giving her a small grin before going back to his work. "That's the goal."

"Thank you," Renesmee felt the sudden need to say. "For helping me. I know I was acting a little . . . okay, a lot crazy earlier, but I have a serious phobia of snakes. There's no way I could've done what you did."

"It's my job," he said, lifting his head back up at her. "But you're welcome."

Renesmee smiled, and something seemed to catch the handyman's eye.

"That the same one from before?" He asked her suddenly, bringing Renesmee up short. She shook her head questioningly, and he kind of gestured towards her, biting the inside of his lip. "From the floor?"

Still confused, Renesmee looked down at herself. And she saw her purple bra, grabbed in a hurry from her bedroom floor and pulled on, clearly exposed by her low-hanging tank top. Hurriedly, she sat up and adjusted the shirt so it covered everything, feeling her face heat up.

She had no idea what to say. Even though she'd spent most of the time she'd known this man wrapped in a blanket, she was suddenly embarrassed.

Before she could find her words, the handyman spoke again. When Renesmee brought her eyes up to meet his, his face was very clearly red.

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. The fact that he was embarrassed too, for some reason, made her feel a little better. "That was so inappropriate. I have no idea why I - really. I'm sorry."

"It was inappropriate, but I forgive you," she told him, smiling. He seemed relieved and Renesmee felt emboldened. "And yes, it is the same one."

Suddenly, he stood back up, his hands dirty, but not really much worse for wear. Renesmee lost her height advantage immediately, by a lot.

"Can I make it up to you?"

He took a step closer to her, putting one of his hands on the counter she was sitting on. His eyes were very intense and Renesmee liked it. She did, but she didn't. What did he want? He was gorgeous, yes, but she wasn't like that. Even for someone like him, who made her want to be.

"Wh-what do you mean?"

Something like realization came across the handyman's face, and he stepped back, as far as he could in the small bathroom. He held his hands up again like he had when she first met him.

"Shit, no - I'm sorry," he said earnestly, rubbing his dirty hands on the sides of his jeans. "That's not what I meant. What's wrong with me? I just meant . . . whatever you want."

Renesmee wasn't sure how things like this were done. What little experience she had with making plans with men was very traditional, with them asking first. Although he kind of already had.

"Like going out for coffee . . . or like, you'll come snake my drain when it gets full of hair?"

She was happy to hear him laugh. Another one of those deep ones, from low in his chest.

"Well, my contract says I've got to do that anyway," he said, standing upright instead of leaning against the wall, therefore moving a little closer. "But uh . . . if we went out for coffee, and it kind of became a regular thing, you'd probably get your drain snaked a lot faster." He was back against the counter again, but looking like he was trying not to be imposing. "Whether you need me to literally snake it, or just pull a snake out of it."

Renesmee smiled, at the joke, but she couldn't help but shiver at the same time. She felt really happy. This turned out not to be such a bad morning after all.

"Okay," she said, and he smiled a smile so big she almost melted into the counter. He was really very gorgeous. "But I need to know your name, because I keep calling you 'the handyman' in my head."

"That's okay, I keep calling you 'the snake girl' in mine," he said, laughing. Renesmee laughed too, and he reached out to touch her fingers. His hand almost swallowed hers whole. "My name's Jacob."

Jacob. It was a big, warm name. Like him.

Right now, Jacob was giving her a questioning look. She shot him one back.

"I'm just trying to think of what your name could be," he said, surprising her a little. "I don't think it's average. You don't seem like a very average girl." She thought about the avocado and flinched a little. "In a great way," he amended.

"Oh really?" She said, feeling flattered and challenged all at once. Jacob was not very far from her now - actually really close - and she wondered if the rest of him was as warm as his hand. It probably was. "What if I told you my name was Amanda?"

Jacob shook his head, shifting his weight onto his hands on the counter, so he wasn't so much terribly taller than her.

"It's not," he disagreed.

"You're right." she admitted, leaning her head back so she could look into his face better. He had a very strong jaw. Nice lips. "My name's Renesmee."

Renesmee saw the little flash in his eyes that said he was happy at being right. A strange name for a strange girl.

Jacob reached up and placed one warm, heavy finger on her chin. Not pulling, not trying to guide her anywhere. Just touching. It felt nice. He leaned down a little, and Renesmee's stomach did a little flip.

"Nice to meet you, Renesmee," Jacob said quietly.

Renesmee turned her hand over, so the insides of their fingers were touching instead, and felt herself stretch up a little. He smelled very nice. She was so glad she chose to come live here.

She stretched up a little more, and their faces got a little closer. Getting the okay from her eyes, Jacob's finger moved to the underside of her chin, tilting her face gently upwards. Then he came down the smallest bit more, and pressed his lips to hers in a warm, soft kiss.

Renesmee sighed when they came apart a second later. Her eyes met his and she gave them the easiest kind of smile. He gave it right back.

"Nice to meet you, Jacob."


End file.
